Eternal Sacred King - Chapter 3329 - : Hand in Hand

The Honoured One... A title bestowed upon the one who's pleasure and displeasure matter above all else within the bounds of Heaven and Earth.That is who I have become. Satoru Gojo - The Six Eyes may have claimed this title for himself, declared it to all of Creation and went unchallenged for it for years, till the awakening of the man I have been transmigrated as.I intend to honour that title.Power is meant to be used - to change one's life with.And change it I shall.----------------------------(Author note: This guy will be a lot like Sukuna in personality, but not a carbon copy - he will have his own views and thoughts that will contradict canon Sukuna, cause this guy is a transmigrated soul from our world who was thrown into the Invincible world with all of Sukuna's powers.Also, he was geniunely Sukuna in his past life.Romance: Sukuna X Yandere EveSukuna is in the body of Megumi (Shadows yet to be tamed)Read the auxiliary chapter for Sukuna's power level compared to this world, because I am taking some vague statements about Sukuna in JJK canon, to make him strong enough to not just be crushed in an instant in a world with Viltrumites.Hope to see you guys soon,Bye!)

Jian Wushuang was reborn in adversity. In order to get his revenge, he began to cultivate Heavenly Creation Skill. With the help of the Heaven defying cultivation method, Jian Wushuang gradually grew into a peerless genius from an ordinary practitioner. With a sword in hand, no one is his match. Using his extraordinary Sword Principle, he killed all his opponents and eventually became number one Sword Master from time immemorial.

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.

People know that ghosts are terrifying, but ghosts understand the malice in human hearts.This is a traditional supernatural novel.